


let the future fall into place

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Dark Victor Nikiforov, Essentially Viktor is a stalker, Eventual rape, M/M, Masturbation, Stalking, Victor spelled Viktor, descriptive noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 09:09:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Yuuri doesn't know why Viktor's eyes are everywhere. Yuuri definitely doesn't know why they end up peering through his bedroom window.Or,Viktor is a stalker. Yuuri is unwilling. Nobody knows.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> random thing that will remain short 
> 
> if you want a feel of viktor's mindset, look here: https://genius.com/Tyler-the-creator-she-lyrics

     Yuuri knows it's wrong.

He really does, and sometimes he thinks telling Phichit might take the load off of his chest, might lighten the oppressive weight of those eyes, that startling blue attention.

  
But when he even thinks of letting the words leave his mouth, that voice that chants depreciating words seem to get louder and louder, buzzing in his head like a swarm of flies.

 _“Why would he want you?”_ it says, “ _Why would you make him sound so horrible, why would you slander him when you are so very unworthy?_ ”

  
Still, the other part of him knows. He doesn't know _why_ , he doesn't think he ever will. Why Viktor Nikiforov looks at him with such intensity, when everyone in the Russian’s group of friends is more beautiful and interesting than Yuuri could ever hope to be. He wishes he could ask.

He wishes he could tell somebody despite barely being able to admit it to himself. He wishes that he could know why Viktor’s eyes are everywhere, not even limited to the walls of their school.

 

* * *

 

 

     It begins like this. Yuuri hadn't seen the tall, light-haired boy rounding the corner until he bumped into him. It was later in the day, mid-class and he’d been too deep in his head, sure that everyone was in the middle of their respective lessons. How stupid, Yuuri thought, to think nobody else would be in the halls.

He flailed a bit before gathering his wits enough to stutter out an apology, embarrassment rising hot in his chest.

  
“O-oh my god I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention!"

  
“...It's alright.”

  
The other didn't keep walking after their quiet, curt answer and Yuuri didn’t either, waiting to see if the other had something else to say. The blue-eyed boy stared and stared, until Yuuri couldn't stand the mounting discomfort any longer. It was becoming unsettling, hard to not shift uncomfortably with the most attractive person he’d ever seen giving him their full attention.

Maybe Yuuri had something on his face. Maybe his cowlick was distracting. Maybe this attractive boy thought he was ugly, so ugly that he had to stare.

  
The taller boy didn't speak again.

  
“S-sorry…” Yuuri managed to stammer one last time, skirting around him quickly and speed walking down the hall.  
His palms were sweating. He could feel the other had turned to watch him go.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri finds out his name is Viktor Nikiforov when he casually asks Phichit on the walk to their shared physics class.

Maybe he isn't so casual, not as much as he thought because Phichit's smile is coy when he answers.  
“Got your eye on the school’s hottie? Ohhh, Yuuri!"   
“No,” Yuuri replies, “Just wanted to know.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s 3 days after their first ‘meeting’ when Yuuri notices him again. Yuuri had only been finishing the section of the textbook, adding sticky notes here and there and abusing his highlighter when he felt it.

The feeling of being watched.

He looked up, eyes swivelling around to catch whom it may be, if anyone, and it happened. His eyes met with blue.

Viktor was sitting only two tables down, his own textbook spread before him, beside a bored looking Christophe Giacometti. Viktor's head was rested on his palms, elbows on his table, his focus only on Yuuri. His eyes were hazy and his expression was a soft one.

When his eyes met with Yuuri’s own, he had flashed a wide smile, almost like he was genuinely pleased to see Yuuri look up and notice him.

Yuuri knew he was being dramatic, that his palms should not sweat so, that he should have been able to focus back on his textbook, but under the gaze of Viktor Nikiforov, he felt irrationally nervous.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri realizes that something may be more wrong than he thought two weeks after Viktor's constant and sudden attention begins.  
It happens when it's dark and the house is quiet, when Yuuri gets the familiar rising urge, spurred by hormones and filthy thoughts he suppresses in the day.

He lays back and teases the front of his pajama bottoms before sliding them off with his boxers, down midthigh.

One hand is still hooked in his boxers and pants, the other slides to pump his half-hard cock. He moves slow, thinks about an attractive boy from school, a vague outline of a boy he wants to imagine is fondling him in the place of his own hand.

His breath is harsher and pulls a his hand to his face and spits into his palm to make the slide easier, and jerks himself off harder. His thumb swipes at the head to spread the precum and it isn't long before he climaxes with a spam of his hips.

He cums with a flushed face, spilling on his stomach.

  
His stomach drops when his eyes drift lazily, and he sees an outline of a person at the corner of his window. The blinds are crooked, he notes distantly. The moonlight behind them causes a halo of silver around the edges of their dark silhouette, and Yuuri quickly tucks himself back into his pants as cold panic rises up his spine.

  
He knows instantly. He also knows that he will never say anything about it.  
He turns over to stare at the window with fear laying over him like a blanket. The silhouette is gone.

* * *

 

 

Yuuri opens his locker the next day, feeling tired and drained from his sleepless night and heavy paranoia. It feels distant, the thought of that silhouette standing behind his crooked blinds. He could almost convince himself it was a dream. Oh, how he wishes it was. 

His eyes flutter shut, stinging when they closw. Yuuri notices a flash of pink at the bottom of his locker when he reopens them. Someone must've slipped it into the slits at the top of his locker, but who, he doesn't know. He almost forgets about the silhouette at his window, his stolen privacy.

The flash of pink is...an envelope, with a large “FOR YUURI” written on the back in unrecognizable handwriting. It definitely isn't Phichit's.

He opens it and as he reads, his heart drops. He crumples the envelope and the letter with a mixture of mortification and fear running cold in his veins.

How is this happening? Why Yuuri? With his mind running a mile a minute, he turns around and walks home.

 

* * *

 

 

_“You are so pretty, I think you are the prettiest person I’ve ever met. I know that I was not doing a good thing last night. I hope you don’t dislike me for it._

_Please, meet me by the 2nd school entrance after classes have ended, I want to take you out somewhere. I don’t want you to think that I only like your body. I'm not a bad person, please please let me show you this. Please, let me know you._

  
_-V.”_

* * *

 

 

“Phichit…” He starts, when the urge to tell somebody, anybody, about everything, about the constant watching and window-peeking and the letters and gifts and rising fear, panic, shame and... “I think…”  
Phichit looks at him curiously, chewing his school pizza slowly.  
“I think, well uh…”  
Phichit swallows and furrows his brows. “Yuuri, are you okay?”

  
Yuuri knows Viktor wouldn't know if he told Phichit right now, that this is a good time to say something. He knows, logically, Phichit would get teachers, police, authority involved if he knew, He knows the paranoia and waiting and peeking would end.

  
“ _Why would you slander him so, when you are unworthy?_ _He isn’t really hurting you, is he_?” The ugly voice in the back of his head awakens, making Yuuri halt in his words, small amount of confidence crumbling under its weight.

  
Yuuri weakly smiles, a frail twitch of his lips, and says,

  
“It’s nothing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Had Viktor waited for him? Had Viktor watched him through the windows of their school as he approached, unaware? What was he going to do? What did he want from Yuuri?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> viktor u sick fuck

  “Yuuri, I'm getting worried about you.”  
Yuuri starts out of his headspace, trigonometry homework spread before him on the coffee table, and looks at Phichit with feigned puzzlement arranged on his face. He knows, quite frankly, that he looks like absolute shit as of late.

His eyes have gained bags that had never been so severe, even after studying for English until it was early morning. He wishes Phichit wouldn't talk about it, wouldn't ask, but he knows it's only out of care.

  
“I don't know what you mean…”

  
He bites his lip against a wince that almost makes its way to his face when he hears how horrible his lie sounds.

He was never good at lying, he knows. He knows he's done a lot of it recently.

He thinks distantly of his mom asking why he’d decided to cover his windows with trash bags out of seemingly nowhere and his answering, “Oh, just too much light in here.”

He thinks of her worry, her confusion and wonders if his lying will ever get better with this newfound practice.

  
“Yuuri, you know I'm here for you right? Like, always?”  
Yuuri takes in Phichit's uptilted eyebrows, the genuine worry written on every line of his face.  
“I know. Thank you, Phichit.”  
His smile looks less fake than the last time he'd lied to his best friend.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri runs late on a Tuesday. He'd managed to fall asleep in the living room, in the early hours of the morning, and hadn't set an alarm.

Hair a mess, leggings and a heavy sweater without a coat, he'd left his house after being awoken by his mother, leaving the chilly, late Autumn air to rise gooseflesh on his skin and sweep his hair into an even worse state.

It wasn't a good start of the day, though he was glad to not have to dodge the watchful eyes of a certain someone he'd artfully learned to avoid.

Or so he thought.

 

  
He began to shakily unlock his locker, concern focused on only getting to his first period if he could make it at all, when his attention focused on footsteps approaching.

His locker swung open and he stuffed his book bag inside, fumbling for his books for the day. He'd learned not to take more than one trip to the locker in the day, to be able to get to classes faster and avoid…

"Yuuri?”

  
Him.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Yuuri closed his locker with a bang. His heart thumping hard against his ribcage, stomach flipping in pure nausea, he snapped his startled eyes toward his left.

There stood Viktor. His expression was strange, open one.

It was nerves hidden in the uptilt of his mouth and eyebrows, an uncertain and besotted expression, his cheeks flushed, pink over the bridge of his nose.

Yuuri was going to vomit there, he was sure. Panic was rising like a tide inside of him, thoughts going a mile a minute. Had Viktor waited for him? Had Viktor watched him through the windows of their school as he approached, unaware? What was he going to do? What did he want from Yuuri?

  
“Yuuri?”

  
Viktor looked more nervous and concerned now, hands flexing by his side like he wanted to something with them, something Yuuri couldn't and didn't want to think about.

  
“W-what do you want?”

  
Yuuri’s trembling voice betrayed his panic, and in response Viktor’s expression dropped into something that looked near wounded.

  
“I just,” Viktor started. His eyes scanned the fear in Yuuri’s face. “You didn't show up after school last week. I mean, when I asked you. In the note.”

  
Yuuri took a step back. Viktor's unsure voice was unlike the confidence and near cockiness that most knew him for, and it deeply unsettled Yuuri.

He had the confirmation Viktor wrote it, looked into his home, his solitude. He didn't really need it at this point.

  
“I…” Yuuri licked his lips and shuddered when Viktor’s eyes darted down to track the motion. “I didn't…”

  
Grasping for confidence, assuring himself nothing would happen in school, he breathed in and out.

  
“I d-didn't want to.” He felt slight triumph that he could even get it out, despite the warble and stutter in his voice. “You're...you're sick.”

  
Viktor started, his eyes widening a fraction and mouth parting in surprise. He looked pained, like Yuuri had physically hit him. Yuuri thought, he'd deserve it if Yuuri decided to.

  
Before his rapidly dwindling confidence could make him do or say anything stupid, Yuuri ran to his class as fast as possible, nerves buzzing like hornets under his skin.  
Maybe he'd make it in time for the end of Civics.

* * *

 

 

     Yuuri can't settle down the rest of the week. Viktor’s hurt looks and sad eyes follow him more than ever, and once he even looks as if he may approach with Christophe Giacometti by his side. Viktor had clearly waited until Yuuri didn't have Phichit with him, and Yuuri had fled early to his next class instead of talking to Leo and Guang-hong like he usually did.

  
It was making Yuuri feel more scared and anxious than ever. Maybe even frustrated. He begun to feel more and more like a mouse being hunted by a feral cat, nerves eating him alive. By Friday, he was considering begging to be transferred to a new school.

  
He'd immediately felt guilty for having such a thought, since his parents had moved so far to America to allow Yuuri to attend the national school for gifted students, leaving Mari and Her husband, Takao, to tend to their onsen. They'd sat down and talked to him about it when he'd been accepted.

He remembers the talk clearly, remembers their reasoning and comforts they offered.  
“Yuuri, we’re fine to go with you. It won't be for long, right? We're old anyway, Mari was going to take over for us at some point…”

  
He still felt the guilt eat at him on occasion, when his mother texts him for help at the supermarket when she can’t read bottles of ingredients, when his father pays extra for Japanese channels on their T.V. He couldn't ask to leave. Not when he'd made them move so far from their true home.

  
‘Suck it up, Yuuri.’ He thought resolutely to himself during another night on the couch. 'You’ll be fine.’

 

* * *

 

 

It isn't fine.

  
Christophe approaches him for the first time the following Monday at their lunch table, where Yuuri is seated with Leo, Guang-Hong, Yuuko, Takeshi and Phichit.

Yuuri knew Christophe wasn't a bad person and he probably wasn't even aware of Viktor’s misdeeds, maybe not even the length of his constant staring, but he associated him with Viktor so much that Yuuri was automatically wary of him.

  
“Yuuri!” Christophe exclaimed, settling beside Yuuri. He had no lunch tray, apparently having left it with his usual table, and sidled up close. The table’s attention simultaneously turned toward them, curiosity evident in his friends’ gazes.

  
"How are you, _mon cher_?" Christophe drawled, tone flirtatious and smooth, like Yuuri was someone he was already comfortable with. They hadn't interacted much before this, maybe over homework or small talk during the last seconds of class being the length of their familiarity.

  
"Good, Christophe."

  
Yuuri's tone is curt and it seemed to go over Christophe's head as he continued to talk, happily unaware of Yuuri's discomfort. Yuuri was just wondering what Christophe could possibly want from him, considering they've never talked during lunch before.

  
“It's Chris! Anyways...I'll cut to the chase. You know Viktor, yes?”

  
Oh, there it is, Yuuri thought as dread creeps up his spine. He swallowed and nodded. Unfortunately, he does know Viktor.

  
“Then you surely have noticed that he's...quite taken by you?”

  
Yuuri couldn't help the mix of anger and fear that flashed across his face. Oh, he knew just how 'taken’ Viktor was. He'd barely learned to admit it to himself, he didn't want to hear it from anyone else's mouth, most especially when they don't know the extent of Viktor’s ‘admiration’.

  
Chris looked startled by Yuuri’s change in demeanor.

  
“Oh. I see…” Chris looked contemplative. “Do you just... not like him in general?”

  
“I don't.” Yuuri said curtly. Everyone in the table is silent. Clearly taken aback, Chris blinked. Vaguely, Yuuri was aware that Viktor was watching from his own table, along with his friends, though not close enough to hear.

  
“Maybe you just don't know him well enough!” Chris said with false cheer, and Yuuri almost felt sorry that he knew so little.

  
“I don't want to, so please…” Yuuri gulped and dropped his eyes to his tray. “Please don't talk to me about it anymore.”

  
Chris stood quiet for a second before humming. “I'll pass along the message. Sorry to bother you, Yuuri.”

  
He sounded like he meant it, to his credit. Yuuri didn't look up to watch him go as he got up from their table and returned to his usual seat.

“Wow.” Phichit said after a moment. “I noticed Viktor looking at you a lot recently. Glad to see it confirmed.”  
He took in Yuuri’s expression.  
“Or not glad, I think. Sorry. I have a feeling this is why you've been all…. _like that_ this week?”

  
“Oh, yeah.” Leo snapped his fingers. “Is it just that you don't want him to like you? This is another low confidence thing, right?”

"Leo!" Phichit scolded, having picked up on Yuuri's mounting discomfort. They usually talked about Yuuri's unbelievably low self-esteem when other people's romantic interest flew over his head, and usually it's so outrageous that Yuuri doesn't mind. But this is far from Yuuri not knowing Jason from Civics was flirting. So far from what they thought.

“Oh, Yuuri…” Guang-Hong sighed in what sounded like pure empathy for his poor, poor unconfident friend.

  
Yuuri swallowed his nausea.

  
“Yeah.” He smiles stiffly. “That's it.”


End file.
